In That Moment
by moonlit-shadow0x
Summary: H/D Slash. Harry and Draco are thrown together in a less than appealing situation that involves one Pansy Parkinson in a coma. Misguided teamwork ensues.


**In That Moment**

**A/N: **An experiment?

x.x.x.x

Five months, two weeks, three days and approximately four hours ago, Draco Malfoy left a pouting, sixteen-year-old Pansy Parkinson without a date to the Ministry Charity Ball her father hosted every year. She always envisioned herself walking down those steps in a silver dress to match the fabulous hair of her partner, rather than in the gaudy pink robes she was tucked into while Terrence Higgs leered suggestively at her from across the table. She had to wonder, at least vaguely, how she ended up in her current situation, and from the strain of such a thought, her slightly unattractive nose crinkled the least bit in confusion.

"Daddy?"

Parkinson Sr, at least three quarters done his journey up the Minister's arse, was mildly irritated at Pansy's knack of calling at him at the worst of times. One of them being there and then, while he was so extremely close to landing that top office spot, and of course, the other being that insignificant time he walked out on his wife.

"Yes, little love?" A nickname she acquired many years ago, when she was actually little. Over the past few months, she had absorbed cakes and biscuits much like Hermione Granger absorbed Transfiguration lectures. Tilting her head to one side, Pansy thought maybe that was the reason Draco was so reluctant to date her.

"Nevermind." Because Pansy's brief inquisitive period was over, and Terrence Higgs had asked her to dance. Perhaps he could have a bit of dental work done… dye his hair – get her out of those horrible pink robes (which unbeknownst to her, was his original plan entirely.)

Five and a half months later, Pansy thought back to that night with that same crinkle in her nose as Harry Potter and Draco Malfoy bumped into each other, not completely on accident. Potter was acting on angst over the trivial death of his godfather, which apparently happened a few months before the Charity Ball, and Draco wasn't overtly giddy about the fact his father was locked away – not that it wasn't a completely legitimate arrest.

Of course, as violent purple sparks soared over that same crinkled nose of hers, Pansy's only thought was perhaps Draco didn't think she was a cow… truthfully, she herself wouldn't want to attend events filled with aristocrats after the arrest of her father. Which would come eventually, exactly 2 years and four months from that day, in fact.

And so, Pansy Parkinson, in all her pug-faced glory, screeched for the two boys to come to a halt. In all the heroic splendor that a slightly unattractive Slytherin girl could possess, Parkinson smiled brightly as she faced Draco's wand.

"I understand!"

And, though no one expected it, least of all Potter and Malfoy, those were the last words Pansy Parkinson would speak for quite a while – and how misguided they were. Because, really, no one believed Pansy Parkinson had the capability to understand most things, much less the complexity of one Draco Malfoy.

At that moment in time, Harry's _Exitium_ spell hit Pansy squarely from behind, while Daco's _Immotus_ spell caught her in front. And with a show of what could have been amazing fireworks if Terrence Higgs had not just lost an amazing one night stand and soon-to-be ever present girlfriend, Pansy fell face down onto the stone floor of the Hogwarts Corridor.

Lavender Brown, who had witnessed everything (or at least that's what she told everyone) remarked sadly:

"Her nose did look a lot better after that, though."

x.x.x.x

"Hold on, that's completely _wrong_." Harry Potter was on the verge of a nervous breakdown, because four hours after "the incident," Parkinson's only movement was to drool on her pillow.

"Really? Because I think it's completely _right_, Potter." Draco Malfoy had just suffered a painful seventeenth birthday in which his mother sent him a lumpy birthday cake with a letter that explained quite frankly that his inheritance had been taken and used to pay off hundreds of Ministry fines. It was for that reason he sought out Harry Potter, a very abstract stress ball one could say.

"Professor, you can't seriously believe I sent Pansy Parkinson into a coma because of a jealous fit over Terrence Higgs." Draco had stated in this faux story that Harry had a weak spot when it came to Higgs, because Higgs was obviously a better seeker than him. Harry repeated the story with a dry and inescapable air of rage as he peered through the roundness of his spectacles.

Professor Snape looked at his students without so much as an ounce of compassion for either. In fact, he couldn't even stir the least bit of emotion for Pansy Parkinson, whose cobblestone imprinted forehead was still crinkled yet.

"I really don't care." Snape said distastefully, and he really didn't. "Madam Pomfrey cannot wake Miss. Parkinson, and so it is up to you two to find a solution to her comatose condition." Harry and Draco would have shared a look of incredulity if either of them could spare a second of civility to one another. "If you don't find it in one month, I'm afraid you will be expelled."

And so it began, five months, two weeks, three days and approximately four hours later, that Pansy Parkinson became trapped in Harry and Draco's worst nightmares. And once again, she was pouting at the situations her sly Slytherin companion seemed to leave her in.

x.x.x.x

It was apparent by the next day at merely noon, Draco Malfoy's plan to wake Pansy revolved around sheer will alone. He sat wearing his best scowl with his feet on the edge of her bed, thinking absently to himself. If he were to get expelled, would he become a rogue? Without his inheritance, would he mangle the streets like a homeless brute?

Draco Malfoy lived a complicated life, and Pansy Parkinson did not understand it at all.

For one, Draco didn't really like his father much at all. As he willed Pansy's form to wake up with his head hanging limply off the back of his chair, Draco illustrated the exact image of an exasperated and neglected son of a dangerous madman and suicidal trophy wife. Of course, no one was there to paint that portrait, and so the moment was lost, and his secrets were kept hidden. Harry arrived a moment too late.

He was dressed in flying gear, and Draco had the decency to be slightly offended on the behalf of his not-so-attractive ex-girlfriend. "You played quidditch while Pansy could be losing brain cells?"

Harry Potter frowned, and it was the type of frowned that mapped out his entire face. His eyes crinkled at the ends, meshing with laugh lines, his eyebrows knit together and the corner of his lips fell just a bit. "Er… yeah." Draco liked to be alone (Pansy didn't count) when he brooded, Harry liked to play with his snitch. It was the way of life, and it was a way that made Harry look like a prick.

As both boys stared at one another over the still body of Pansy Parkinson, they exhaled loudly. Harry thought to himself how he would much rather take on Voldemort, wielding a stick of cheddar, than the task of awakening one Miss. Pansy Parkinson, as Draco scowled about his lost fortune and how, if he had the money, he would've been able to pay to regenerate Pansy's brain cells.

But alas, cheddar and diamonds aside, they were stuck. Not just with a pasty Parkinson, but with each other as well.

"This is going to be one Hellish month."

Surprisingly, neither Draco nor Harry uttered the remark. Instead, a lonely Terrence Higgs spoke not from the heart, but from under the influence of his libido. And with his hand down his pants.

One Hellish month, indeed.

x.x.x.x

TBC


End file.
